There’s this really amazing poster that an old friend of mine, Soup, had hanging on his wall. It was for a Spiritualized album called, “Ladies and gentlemen, we are floating in space.” And that title just blew me away. Mostly because it was such a simple idea, we’ve known it since we were kids, but the majesty of it, the mind-blowing awesomeness of all of us careering through space, for a brief moment, was made new. Every day we travel thousands of miles. Always on the move. We’ve been, all of us, to different parts of the solar system. The homeless, school-kids, postal workers, tap-dancers, porno stars, truck drivers, baristas, mariachis, even our pets, every living thing on the earth is a space traveler. That, for me, is pretty jaw-droppingly awesome.
In fact, when you take the time to consider anything, I mean, really consider it, it blossoms into a whole spectacle of brilliant magic. For instance, I have some plants in my apartment. I’ve had them for twenty years. For twenty years, I have managed to keep these plants alive. And I was wondering, do they like me? Do they know who I am? I mean, not in the sense that they might be able to articulate it, but I’ve been feeding them water and giving them new soil and taking care of them for 20 years. And I have no idea how long they’ve been around before me. I mean, what if, twenty years ago, I purchased plants that were hundreds of years old? It’s strange to think that I am responsible for anything’s life, considering how badly I’ve managed to muck up my own. But here they are, just surviving.
I used to really want super-powers as a kid. But I think about my plants and wonder if, you know, if they could think, if they would be thinking, “Ah man, I wish I could move around like that. I would love to jump out of my pot and just run around. Or play that guitar. Or jump on that bed.” I mean, it’s entirely possible that to plants, we’re gods. I guess what I’m saying is that it’s a pretty incredible time to be alive, floating through space, living as a human. I got really lucky. And I’m super grateful I know that I don’t express that often. But I am. I love my life. And the people in it. And the fact that I get to make music and write songs and give back to this spectacular spectacle of majesty and magic. But then again, that’s just now. Come calling in a couple days and I could very well be miserable again. But that’s just it. It just keeps happening. The world keeps floating, plants keep growing, and I get to be a part. A very, very small part, mind you. But a part, nonetheless.
Smashing through walls like some miniature hulk,